Thinking about Old Shoes

My friend Adam said he needs me to update my blog because he is tired of listening to teenagers talk about MTV all day and he wants to think about something deep and challenging. I am tired of listening to 2 year olds talk about Thomas the train all day. Even at night, at least half of my dreams are about changing diapers or calming tantrums or catching a kid from falling to their death. The problem is I think about my job too much, and believe me, hearing about my job would not be one of those deep thinking, challenging things you are looking for, Adam. But I did think of something interesting that happened earlier in the month…

A few weeks ago at church, we gave away our shoes. Our pastor (Erwin McManus) spent the morning talking about sacrifice. It was one of those inspiring messages that makes you want to sacrifice something…something big…sometime in the hazy future. But at the end of the message, Erwin said,

“Why don’t we take our shoes and make them a metaphor today of all of our possessions…our dreams… our concerns…our burdens…our wealth…our desires, of everything we have, and let’s take our shoes and say, ‘God this is a declaration of all of me, and I want to give them to you…I’m going to give them to You by giving them away to someone who doesn’t have any shoes’…I want to invite you to join me and give your shoes away.”

I thought, hey that’s cool, a metaphor. Then I realized that he actually wanted us to take off our shoes and give them away. What? But we need our shoes. You don’t just ask people to give away the shoes they are wearing. Does he really mean it?

When I saw several other people bending down to take off their shoes and walking up front, I saw that he did really mean it. As I took off my shoes I was struck by my first reactions to the request. How much do we really need our shoes? Who couldn’t go home and pick up another pair of shoes at home, or even buy a replacement without too much difficulty? Why is it so difficult to give when we aren’t prepared?

I looked at the pile of shoes at the front and thought were probably some really nice, expensive shoes up there. My sandals had just been cheap ones from China, but Kevin had given away his tennis shoes, and my sister Anna, who was visiting, her favorite pair of Chaco’s. We walked home barefoot and got along just fine without our shoes. When we got home, we put on a different pair of shoes. As Erwin had said,

“I’ll bet you have more shoes than you have feet, but there’s people out there who have more feet than they have shoes.”

What was most interesting was that when we discussed this event at our small group almost two weeks later, everyone was still thinking about it. People shared their thoughts and reactions. Most of us were surprised and hesitant because it was such an unusual request. There was generally a bit of inner conflict because we felt some kind of attachment to our shoes. One girl who caught wind of what was happening before she attended an evening service struggled throughout the day with wanting to change shoes and chose a different pair to give away. Another person remarked, “It would have been a lot easier if he had asked us to give money.” We’re used to doing that, and we don’t have the same attachment to a check.

After a pile of shoes lined the front of the stage, Erwin also invited us to bring other clothes and shoes for the homeless ministry, but I think that initial act of giving up our shoes was important. We didn’t get to choose what to sacrifice. We didn’t go through the back of our closets to find the things we don’t really want or need, keeping the best things for ourselves. I think that is why weeks later, we are still thinking about it.